


Pulled From the Wreckage

by runsinthefamily



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas, Dean's not gay, I drank a liquor store, M/M, Season 5 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-28
Updated: 2012-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:50:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runsinthefamily/pseuds/runsinthefamily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the end of the world as we know it, and Cas is drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pulled From the Wreckage

"So how do we go Pimp of Babylon all over this bitch?"

Sam made the face that meant he was offended by Dean's language and Cas made the face that meant, apparently, that he was drunk. 

"I will acquire a weapon," said the angel, lurched to his feet, and vanished.

"Funny the things you can get used to," said Sam, staring at the place Cas had just been. 

"And the things you can't," said Dean. "I mean, drunk? How is that even possible?"

"He drank a liquor store," said Sam and then spread his hands at Dean's glare. "It's what he said."

"Great," said Dean. "That's just peachy." He sat down and pulled the book over to him, frowning at the woodcut of the Whore's lovely, peaceful face. "Do you think - "

There was the faintest sound of wings, a whiff of desert and dust and then Cas reached past Dean's shoulder and set a gnarled, sunbleached twist of wood down on the book. "The Whore can be killed with that." He turned away, eyelids drooping, and went to the kitchenette. "It's a stake made from a cypress tree. In Babylon." His voice was _rougher_ , if that was possible. 

_I am_ not _scrubbing angel puke out of the sink,_ Dean vowed silently. "Great," he said out loud. The stake was surprisingly light, the wood smooth as silk. "Let's ventilate her."

"It's not that easy." Cas turned back, glass of water in hand. 

"'Course not." Dean muttered.

"The Whore can only be killed by a true servant of heaven." Cas sipped his water gingerly.

"A servant like -"

"Not you," said Cas. He reeled ever so slightly. "Or me. Sam, of course, is an abomination."

Sam grimaced a little, dropped his gaze.

"We'll have to find someone else." Cas did not sound particularly hopeful about the prospect. 

"The minister," said Sam.

"Well, sure," said Dean. "We'll just ask him nicely to gank his daughter."

"It's not his daughter," said Sam, in that irritatingly earnest way of his. "We just have to make him see it. I mean, we have an angel, right? That's gotta be pretty convincing."

Dean looked at Cas, who was looking into his glass of water and swaying lightly again.

"Right," said Dean.

"I'll go scope out the town, draw a bead on the minister," said Sam. "Why don't you, uh. Get some coffee or something into Cas." He clapped Dean on the shoulder and headed for the door.

"Why me?" asked Dean.

"Because drunkeness and debauchery are your departments," said Sam, grinned, and made his escape.

"I have not engaged in debauchery," said Cas.

"Well, thank heaven for small favors," said Dean. "Because I remember it not going so well last time."

"I understand better what I did wrong when you took me to that brothel," said Cas. 

"Do you," said Dean, putting the kettle on. There were packets of cheap instant coffee in the cupboards. Good enough.

"I saw her as a person. It is difficult to use someone when you see them as a person."

"Well, that's ..." Dean trailed off, uncomfortable. 

"Heaven does not see you and your brother as people." Cas drank more water.

"Tell me something I don't know," said Dean.

"I do." Cas looked at Dean, his eyes bloodshot, his mouth tense. "I see you."

"Even the Abominable Sam?" Dean asked.

"His state is not his doing nor his fault," said Cas. "He struggles to do what is right. As do you. It is admirable." He pressed a hand to his chest. "The man who inhabited this vessel was admirable. Heaven is blind." Cas put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "You are beings of immense beauty and possibility."

"Possible beauty, gotcha," said Dean, dumping hot water and brown crystals into a cup together. "Drink this, you're starting to freak me out a little."

Cas glanced at the cup. "I have already consumed six cups of coffee."

"Have another," said Dean, shoved it into Cas's hand.

"Coffee has no sobering properties," said Cas, and drank the whole thing in one go, steam rising around his face. 

"Well, what is going to sober you up? Because I'm not sure how much more beauty and possibility I can stomach."

"I didn't say those things because I am drunk," said Cas. He stepped closer. His coat rustled. That weird angel-smell of incense and flowers and what Dean would _never_ admit to calling 'starshine' swirled around him. His breath, despite the coffee, smelled of honey. "I said them because they are true."

"Okay," said Dean. 

"Also because the world is ending," said Cas. "And there is no point in going to our dissolution and death with regrets weighing upon us."

Dean stared at Cas's eyes, blue and direct and not ten inches away. "Okay," he said again. "You wanna back up a little?"

"No," said Cas and - yes, dropped his eyes to Dean's lips. He was looking at Dean's lips. Staring, really. Then _his_ lips parted, his plush, chapped, angel lips and if his _breath_ was honey, what was his _mouth_ -

"Oookay," said Dean loudly. "Ok, that's quite enough of that." He took Cas by the shoulders and moved him firmly back. 

Cas titled his head to one side, his eyebrows coming together. "Enough of what?"

"Of your regrets. You can just let them weigh you down, alright?" Dean realized he was still holding onto Cas and snatched his hands away. "I don't have the headroom to deal with this right now."

"When will you?" Cas was so motherfucking _literal_ , that was the problem.

"I'll get back to you on that one, okay?" Dean stepped backward and banged into the wall. 

"You are uncomfortable," said Cas. "Because I have expressed interest in you. Sexually."

"Duh!" said Dean and immediately wished he hadn't. 

"Is it because I am an angel? You had no such reservations with Anna."

"Look, Cas," said Dean. "It's not you, you're very -" he flailed for a moment, "- very ... I'm not gay. Alright? So ... thanks but no thanks and can we please never talk about this again."

"Of course," said Cas. "Human social-sexual gender constructs. Forgive me. I did not think."

"That's alright," said Dean. He spread his hands. "Far as I'm concerned, never happened."

"My admiration for you is not dependent on my desire -" Cas began.

"Never! Happened!" said Dean.

Cas seemed to slump very slightly. "As you wish."

There was a silence.

"I'm just going to -" Dean pointed at the books.

"I will go see if Sam -" said Cas, simultaneously.

They stared at one another for a moment and then Cas vanished.

"What the _hell,_ " said Dean, feelingly.

"


End file.
